


i wanna take this further than the dancefloor

by wrongtree



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Blow Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:57:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2421071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrongtree/pseuds/wrongtree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Sipping his drink and watching the people around him dancing, Nick’s eyes fall upon a familiar looking face. Standing at the bar is that bratty one off One Direction, fixing his fringe with one hand and patting his bare belly with the other.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>or, the As Close To True As This Could Possibly Be story of what transpired when nick and louis both happened to be in ibiza in august of 2011</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wanna take this further than the dancefloor

**Author's Note:**

> a trillion and one thank you's to [alison](http://noproblemnick.tumblr.com/), without whom* this fic wouldn't be finished or published. she's been the best cheerleader through this whole thing and i'm forever grateful. all the good bits are her incredible beta skills and all the bad bits are my mistakes! 
> 
> *i had to ask her and double check that this was the correct term, i'm grossly dependent.

middle of august, 2011

 

 _**Aeropuerto de Ibiza** _ **, 10:37 am**

The heat engulfs him the minute he steps through the sliding glass airport doors and out onto the tarmac in search of a shuttle bus. Nick pauses for a moment to take a deep breath of the humid Ibiza air, promptly coughing because of how thick it is. He has to dig through his bag for his puffer and sends a wordless thank you to Gillian, who convinced him to take it; he likes to pretend his lungs actually work just fine, thank you very much (his mates often have to remind him that his lungs are rubbish at being lungs).

It’s been absolute ages since Nick’s been in Ibiza last, and in that time he had forgotten how fast the drivers sped down the highway en route to the hotel, tailgating cars and cutting people off, commentating for the entertainment of people on holiday.

It’s the weekend before Radio One’s big _Ibiza Weekend_  so no one important is here yet, Nick just wanted to pop down on his own for a bit of scoping out before the big event. He convinced Agent Caroline and Big Boss Ben that it was for work, some extra promo and a chance to find the most populated areas, but all he’s written in his diary is “ _drink, shag? fit boy_ ” with a messy scrawl.

Nick’s sat in the back of a fast moving shuttle bus, hood up and smiling to himself as Lil Kim spits through his headphones. He’s glad no one is paying him any real attention because they’d think he went completely off his rocker, he can imagine their whispers: “that strange pale bloke is smiling to himself back there, he’s a lunatic, don’t look him in the eye”. Before he really starts to worry about it though, they pull up to the hotel with a screeching hault. A couple of unsecured bags slide across the floor but Nick’s stays where he’s got it tucked between his feet. The drive should take longer, but with the way the transport speeds, they arrive quickly.

He’s once again thankful to Gillian, who packed his knapsack for him. While preparing for his trip, he, with the help of his flatmate Henry, probably had a month’s worth of clothes pulled out of his wardrobe. He was prepared to shove it all into a large suitcase when Gells came in. She had rolled her eyes, grabbed a stripey t-shirt from the floor, a floral print button-up from the bed, a pair of shorts from a drawer and stuffed them into the bag before doing the same with a handful of (presumably) clean pants. Then she rummaged through Nick’s bedside table drawer and put the box of condoms from there into the front part of his bag. “Buy lube when you get there,” was all she said before storming out again. He and Henry just looked at each other, wide-eyed before Nick shrugged and went to the kitchen for a glass of red.

With just a carry on bag Nick can slip easily from the bus to the hotel. In the fresh air he takes just a second to smile at his surroundings and then makes his way to the concierge desk, ready to get his holiday properly started.

 

**_Ibiza Rocks Hotel_ , 11:58am**

The first thing Nick does upon entering his hotel room, after throwing his bag on the bed, is grab a drink from the room’s mini-fridge. It’s just gone noon and he decides he’s  _on holiday_ , no point in waiting until sundown to get some alcohol in his system.

He steps out onto the balcony and grins widely at the view. Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he snaps a photo of the beach, littered with umbrella covered drink tents, and sends it to his friends back in rainy London with the caption, “View’s terrible.” He smirks again, thinking of their responses, and pockets his phone.

 

**_Ibiza Rocks Bar —_ _San Antonio_ , 8:13 pm**

After a big lunch in the hotel’s diner, during which he befriended an elderly couple visiting for their granddaughter’s second wedding, Nick had stopped by the lobby to get lube and gone back up to his hotel room to shower and get ready to enjoy the beach. Which would have been a great plan if he hadn’t fallen asleep, still damp, on top of his sheets.

He wakes up completely disoriented and has to sit with his head between his knees for fifteen minutes before the world feels right again. When his head stops spinning he opens the curtains on his balcony to let in the light of the late evening, sun just thinking about sinking into the horizon. He putters about his hotel room, cursing the puttering, until it’s a reasonable time to go out and find a club with good music, and maybe a boy to snog too.

The partying is in full swing by the time Nick arrives, and he realizes the reasonable time for a party in Ibiza is _all the time_. He bops his head to the DJ’s set, something with a lot of bass that he surprisingly doesn’t recognize, as he makes his way to the bar.

Sipping his drink and watching the people around him dancing, Nick’s eyes fall upon a familiar looking face. Standing at the bar is that bratty one off One Direction, fixing his fringe with one hand and patting his bare belly with the other. The sight of him makes Nick do a triple take. Nick watched him on X-factor, well not him in particular, but saw the season enough to know who the small fit one was. He never realized he was quite so compact though.

They met once, just briefly for X-factor, an interview that was never aired, but hadn’t spoken much then or after. Nick always secretly fancied him, and wanked over him once he and Henry established that he was, in fact, of age. He was drunk then and is just drunk enough now to convince himself that it’s a good idea to flag down the bartender and pay for whatever Lou… is? Lewis? Louis? Louis, he decides, has ordered.

The bartender shrugs and goes about mixing Louis’ drinks. Nick watches as she hands Louis the drinks and points toward Nick. He does a little wave with his fingers when Louis catches his eye and when he only scowls in response, Nick quickly looks away. He counts to ten, slowly, while staring into the bottom of his almost empty glass before he looks up again. Louis is gone and a quick scan of the crowd doesn’t reveal him either.

Nick feels a tap on his shoulder just as he turns back to face the bar, he looks to his left but no one is there. He slowly turns to his right and a giggling Louis is standing there, hand on his belly again with the other wrapped around a single drink glass, khaki shorts sitting low on his hips.

“Can’t believe you fell for that,” he gasps, wiping away a tear.

“Pleasure as always, Tomlinson.”

Louis gets a serious look on his face very quickly, as if he just remembered why he came over to Nick’s spot at the bar. “Why’d you pay for my drinks, Nick?”

Nick sips his drink and shrugs; he hopes it comes off as aloof and nonchalant but he really doesn’t have an answer for the boy. He has no idea why he thought covering the cost of Louis’ drinks was a good thing to do. Deep in the back of his mind he thinks maybe he had just hoped Louis would talk to him (and his stomach absolutely does not flutter because Louis said his name). “Why are you topless, Lewis?”

Louis scowls at him but doesn’t answer the question either. He huffs and says, “Well, my mate, Stan, thought I should thank you. So now I have.” He rolls his eyes a little and Nick is hopelessly endeared, which must be the alcohol. There's absolutely no way Nick is attracted to the way the light of the bar bounces off Louis' cheekbones or the sheen of sweat on his shirtless chest. He's just drunk.

Louis looks at him for a fraction of a second, as if waiting for Nick to say something more, before turning around. He doesn’t get far because Nick’s hands move faster than his brain and his fingers wrap carefully around Louis’ dainty wrist. “Wait,” he says, downing the last sip of his drink. Louis tries to tug his hand out of Nick’s grip but fails. “We’re dancing,” Nick decides, pulling Louis into the heavy crowd of people.

It’s hot, in amongst the bodies. The nights don’t really cool down in Ibiza, especially not in the clubs, heated between the flowing alcohol and dancing holiday goers. Nick drags Louis into the middle of it all and can already feel his patterned shirt sticking to his lower back. The heat doesn’t stop him from pulling Louis’ back against his front, hands on either side of his hips. Nick’s mesmerized by how small Louis’ waist looks between his hands, lit up by the flashing strobe lights, the contrast in their skin colour, Nick’s paleness against Louis’ deep tan.

As they sway together Nick moves a hand from Louis' hip up to his chest, running his fingers through the tiny bit of hair there. Nick pulls him back a little more, even though there's not really an option for them to be anything but pressed together in the large crowd. Nick can feel Louis’ heartbeat against his palm as easily as he can feel the bass from the speakers through his feet and in his chest.

The tension in Louis’ shoulders slowly slips away as they grind their hips together. His head starts to tilt back more and more as he relaxes, soon leaning most of his weight against Nick’s sweaty torso. Nick’s shirt is mostly unbuttoned down the front so he can feel the heat of Louis’ bare back directly against his skin, they practically stick together in the sweatiness of the club.

They just get a rhythm started when the music changes to something a little more sultry and Louis takes his motions to a whole new level Nick never saw coming (but had secretly hoped desperately for). Louis arches his back, pushing his plump butt into Nick’s crotch and places his hands over Nick's, securing them around his middle. The skin of his stomach is soft and warm under Nick’s fingers, and he can’t help but stroke his thumb just under Louis’ belly button, in the space just above the band of Louis’ exposed pants.

Louis' head is lolled against Nick’s shoulder while he sways to the beat and Nick seizes the opportunity by leaning forward to press open-mouthed kisses across Louis' clavicle and up his neck to his earlobe. He nibbles the skin behind Louis' ear and whispers "you're so hot" before continuing the nibbling again. Louis' breath catches and he pushes back into Nick even more, as if there was any space left between them to fill.

"You're not nearly half as horrible as I expected you to be," Louis breathes back in response, arching his spine as Nick sucks a mark into his neck.

Louis’ arse fits perfectly over the hardening line of Nick’s cock in his trousers. There’s absolutely no way Louis doesn’t notice, and Nick waits for Louis’ reaction. There’s alcohol thrumming through his body and Louis is warm and comforting beneath his palms, small enough to wrap up; of course he’s aroused.

Louis presses back a little more and tilts his head to look up at Nick, humming in what seems to be approval and rolls his hips back against Nick. Nick gasps, his hips jumping up to meet Louis’ ass.

They grind on each other a little while longer, just dry humping in a crowded room. Nick, not fully hard yet but well past a compromising position, looks down to rearrange himself and is taken aback by the sight. His cock is pressed tightly against his jeans and the sight of Louis’ ass against him is too much, Nick can’t help but imagine the scene without a clothing barrier.

He groans and leans down to whisper into Louis’ ear. “Wanna get out of here?”

Louis turns around and looks up at Nick with wide eyes, flicking his eyes down to Nick’s erection before looking back up again. He nods and, with a smirk, runs his hand over Nick’s crotch.

Nick groans. “Louis, don’t, really don’t-”

Louis smiles again and saunters toward the exit of the club, not looking to see if Nick’s following him. He is though, of course he is.  

 

**_Port de San Antoni Beach_ , 12:42am**

Nick nearly dies in the ocean twice on the way back to his room. The first time he trips over his own feet and crashes into an already broken sand castle. The second time is entirely Louis’ fault as he pushes Nick hard in the shoulder, directly into the surf. A wave crashes over Nick and he splutters as Louis falls backward onto his ass from laughing so hard. He’s still laughing when Nick crawls from the water and into his lap, kissing the giggles from his mouth.

Nick's not sure how they went from dirty grinding in a club to casually giggling while kissing, but he doesn't hate it. Louis is fun to kiss, keeps nipping at Nick's lips with his teeth and licking out to meet his tongue. Nick is a big believer in using tongues while kissing, and Louis doesn't make it feel like he's kissing a dog; it's just gentle licks and soft flicks of his tongue, not slobbery at all.

They snog in the sand until Nick’s clothes are nearly dry, tongues licking against each other, teeth clicking together when one of them gets overeager (usually Louis), legs tangled, and toes almost touching the water every time the waves crash on the shore.

Eventually Louis pulls back and pushes himself out from under Nick. He complains about all the sand sticking to his back as he brushes it off his butt and Nick, devastated that it’s too dark for him to really see the glory that is Louis touching his own bottom, waits in the sand until Louis pulls him up too. He doesn’t let go of Nick’s hand even after Nick’s on his own two feet and simply points in the direction they had been heading before.

Nick stares at him for a moment, just to take in his sandy, rumpled hair and the hazy silhouette of his body against the club lights behind him.

Louis looks at him with an eyebrow quirked and says, “Well let’s go then, lead the way.”

 

**_Ibiza Rocks Hotel_ , 1:24am**

They stumble into Nick’s hotel room, not because they’re still snogging, but because Louis keeps pinching the back of Nick’s shirt, and as they reach the door Nick turns to tell him off but loses his balance.

Louis cackles as Nick tumbles into the wall just inside the hotel, grasping the door handle for dear life. He pushes past Nick with a hip wiggle and immediately starts undressing himself, complaining about damp clothes and “bloody sand in places there shouldn’t be sand.”

Nick is too distracted watching Louis to remove his own clothes. He watches as Louis peels his damp shorts from his thighs, wiggling his ass a bit to get them down. Louis kicks his shorts away once they hit his ankles and then looks up at Nick.

He smirks and turns around, bending at the waist to take his socks off. He’s just wearing tiny black briefs and Nick can’t believe the sight of his ass in them; they cling to the curve just under each butt cheek and show off just how round his arse actually is. The thing about Louis’ ass is that it’s accentuated by his toned and silky thighs. Nick is surprised at how pale and smooth his skin is there, how much he wants to waste _days_  marking up the back of Louis’ thighs.

When Louis is done ridding himself of his socks, he runs and jumps on Nick’s bed, giggling as he springs back up and gets sand all over the duvet.

“You little shit,” Nick says, shaking his head as Louis settles onto the pillows.

“S’too hot for a duvet anyway, not like you were going to need it.” Louis blinks up at Nick and his eyes scream come here, so Nick wiggles off his jeans and steps to the end of the bed, running a nervous hand through his floppy, sweaty, hair.  

Louis scooches himself down the bed to meet Nick and he sits up, tucking his feet under his bum and using the leverage from his thighs to reach up and kiss the corner of Nick's mouth. He pulls back and looks at Nick for a second before planting his thin lips over Nick's mouth; it feels heavier than their kisses on the beach did, like it means more.

As Louis sits back down he opens the unbuttoned top bit of Nick’s shirt and traces his fingers over the hair there, running his index finger down Nick’s chest until the buttons of his shirt stop him. Louis flicks his eyes to Nick’s face for just a second before focusing on unbuttoning the rest of the shirt, taking his time with his small fingers.

Nick wonders if Louis can feel the racing of his heart under his fingertips, because to him it feels like his heart is trying to free itself from its rib prison. It only gets worse when Louis pops out the last button and leans forward to kiss a line down Nick’s sternum, making Nick suck in a deep breath when Louis also brings a hand up to rub his thumb over his right nipple, pressing his lips to the left.

He doesn’t spend long on Nick’s nipples, just making them hard and damp before he kisses his way down to Nick’s belly, just to where the elastic of his pants sit on his hips, and stops. Louis’ fingers trail along Nick’s sides as he looks up. Ever so quietly, he asks “Can I blow you?”

It’s said so softly that Nick thinks he imagined it, willed Louis to say the words because of how much he wants it. He swallows heavily and nods, reaching down to twine his fingers between Louis’ for a second, giving them a quick squeeze before letting go so Louis can reach to tug his pants down.

Nick’s been hard since the beach and his whole body jerks when Louis wraps his small hand around his cock. Louis keeps a firm grip as he strokes Nick over a few times, pulling up slowly and running the pad of his thumb under the head of Nick’s cock. Louis bends down and flattens his tongue right over Nick’s slit, just for a taste, before closing his lips around the head and sucking. Nick gasps at the feeling but the angle that Louis’ bent at isn’t great so he pulls off almost immediately.

Nick pulls Louis up by the shoulders and shoves his tongue in his mouth, trying to get a taste of himself. As he does so, he climbs onto the bed and flips them over so he’s on his back with Louis flopped across his belly.

Louis chuckles and gives Nick another kiss before shuffling down the bed and sucking Nick’s cock back into his mouth. He closes his hand around the base and sucks down but he can’t quite reach his lips to his hand and gags just a little bit as he lifts up again.

He doesn’t pull off though, keeps the suction at the tip of Nick’s dick, swirling his tongue around and breathes through his nose.

At this angle Nick can see the sharp edges of Louis’ face, can see how the dark shadows under his cheekbones are more pronounced as he sucks Nick down, can see the slight tremble in his hands as he tries to take more and more of Nick’s cock into his mouth. He can see the tears brimming in Louis’ eyes as he pulls back, drops stuck to his long eyelashes, and then the little furrow of determination in his brow as he slides his tongue down Nick’s shaft again and finally touches where his fingers are wrapped around the base.

Louis makes a noise in the back of his throat, like he’s trying to hum, and holds himself there for a second but has to pull off all the way to catch his breath. Nick knows the feeling.

Louis’ chest is heaving and Nick is so fond of him that his stomach twists. He reaches a hand up from where he had been absentmindedly clutching the bedsheets to cup Louis’ face. He runs a thumb over Louis’ bottom lip where a bit of spit is still hanging and lifts his chin to look him in the eyes.

“You’re incredible,” Nick says, using his other hand to wipe away the tears from Louis’ face.

Louis blinks a few times and then scowls. “I didn’t know you had a fucking giant cock, that thing is way bigger than it needs to be.”

Nick doesn’t have a response so he just laughs and rubs his hands across his abdomen.

Louis mutters a grumpy “ridiculous” but ducks down again.

This time he goes slower and teases Nick with small kitten licks around the head while deft fingers play with his balls. Louis licks and nips up the side of his thigh and runs the flat of his hand up Nick’s chest.

He slowly drags his hand back down, scratching lightly across Nick’s stomach before grabbing the base of his dick and holding it gently against his lips. He flicks his eyes up to Nick’s face and holds his stare as he drags the head of his cock against his parted mouth.

Louis gives a small lick, and then another one, then smirks and sucks Nick as far into his throat as he can.

“F-uck, Louis,” Nick gasps. He feels Louis’ throat flutter and his hips jerk up, causing him to gag again.

Louis coughs and pulls off, a string of spit and precome stuck to his mouth and he croaks out a “prick” as he roughly jerks Nick off.

“I’m sorry,” Nick groans. “Your mouth, love. Jesus.”

Louis smirks and releases Nick’s dick, then climbs up Nick’s body, spit still clinging to his bottom lip. “How’s my mouth?” He asks.

He’s close enough that Nick can feel the warmth of his breath against his neck, but he’s not kissing him. Louis is just straddling Nick’s waist, one hand beside Nick’s ear and the other balanced on Nick’s chest, teasing him by being so close without touching anywhere else. Nick pulls him in with a hand on the back of his neck and crushes their mouths together, easily licking into Louis’ mouth.

Nick can feel Louis’ arm shaking with the strain of holding himself up, so he uses the leverage to flip them over. He’s pretty sure he knocks their knees quite hard together, but Louis doesn’t say anything, just gasps as he lands flat on his back in the middle of the bed.

“Wanna fuck you,” Nick says, pressing another kiss to Louis’ mouth to calm him down. Louis’ only response is a whimper and a full body tremble.

Nick sits up on his knees between Louis’ legs and looks down at the boy below him. He looks a little wrecked already, more gorgeous than Nick could have ever imagined. His hair is sticking up in all sorts of directions and his face is flushed a stunning pink over his tan. Nick places a hand over Louis’ heaving chest and can feel his heartbeat thump faster and faster as he spreads his fingers wide, marveling at how he can reach both of Louis’ nipples with just one hand.

Louis’ hips jerk up as Nick flicks his pinky over his tiny nipple, which draws Nick’s attention to the dark patch on Louis’ tented pants.  

It’s Nick’s turn to grin. “Turn you on, do I?” he asks, pushing his palm again the bulge of Louis’ crotch.

The boy groans but doesn’t let himself say anything, just lifts his hips up into Nick’s hand.

“S’all right, love. You do the same to me.” He leans over Louis to kiss him but emphasizes his words by pressing his erection against Louis’.

“Nick,” Louis says. He tries not to let the whine escape but Nick can hear the desperation in his voice.

Tracing his fingers along the band of Louis’ pants, Nick asks if he can take them off. Louis responds by lifting his hips off bed and Nick slowly wiggles them down his legs. He tosses them to the side somewhere and takes a second to roam his eyes over Louis’ body again, can’t get enough of staring at the boy.

Louis’ cock twitches while Nick stares at him and he starts to squirm a little, almost vibrating in anticipation, completely naked and ready to go. Nick doesn’t make him wait long, and soon reaches down to finally wrap his hand around Louis’ cock, flushed and thick with arousal. The head is deep pink and slick as it slides through Nick’s fingers. Louis moans again and can’t seem to help but thrust into Nick’s grasp. Nick’s other hand sneaks its way up Louis’ thigh and behind his balls to rub dryly over his hole.

Louis gasps sharply and pulls his hips up from the bed.  

The reaction makes Nick stop rubbing, just holding his finger there with a tiny bit of pressure. “Ever done this before?” He asks, gently.

Louis doesn’t answer, just squeezes his eyes shut and breathes heavily.

“Louis, answer me, love, I have to know.”

Louis frowns but opens his eyes to look at Nick. His pupils are blown and his eyes are red from when he’d been tearing up before. He swallows and looks away from Nick before answering “no” in a quiet voice.

Nick lets go of his dick to stroke his thigh and hip bone. “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything.”

“I mean,” Louis swallows again. “I’ve had fingers up me arse before, but I’ve never been fucked.”

“We don’t have to do it now, just this is fine.”

“I-.” He stops and makes eye contact again. “I heard about like, thigh fucking? It’s supposed to feel good and, like, yeah.” He trails off.

“Wanna do that, with me?” Nick keeps running his hand along Louis’ side, hoping it’s as soothing to Louis as it is to him. He wants whatever Louis will give him, would be okay to just pull at his dick until he came all over his tiny torso.

Louis just nods and spreads his legs open a fraction more.

Nick makes sure Louis catches his smile before he leans forward and kisses from Louis’ nipple to his jaw to his mouth. “Gonna get the lube from my bag, love. Why don’t you get on your hands and knees?”

Nick reluctantly pulls away and rummages through his bag, taking more time than needed just so Louis has longer to get used to the idea or change his mind. He doesn’t want to push the boy too far if he’s never really done this before. He grabs a condom too, just to be considerate.

Turning back to the bed he nearly passes out. Louis’ propped up on the bed, shoulders against the mattress as he uses one hand to rub between his thighs and over his hole, like he’s trying to imagine how Nick would feel there.

Humming in approval, Nick knees onto the bed again, stroking Louis’ hip. He has a bit of a fixation on Louis’ waist, how small it is, how big his hands look there and how well they fit into the contours of Louis’ body.

“Condom?” he asks, but doesn’t wait before opening the foil package. The condoms are new but he checks the date anyway before rolling it carefully onto his cock. “I’m clean and wanna feel you, but things are gonna get slick and we should be safe.”

“It’ll still feel good,” Louis says.

Nick pumps some lube onto his hands and warns “gonna be a bit cold,” even as he rubs the liquid between his palms to warm it up. He adds a little more, then works his slick hands over Louis’ thighs and between his legs before lubing up his cock, too.

“Thighs together, Lou,” he says.

Louis tenses his legs and pushes his arse up. Nick takes a second to watch how the light catches the slick over his bottom and then lines himself up behind Louis.

Even with how tight Louis is clenching his legs the slide in is still easy and the pressure amazing. Nick holds himself there, feeling the power of Louis’ thighs holding him close, how the head of his cock is trapped behind Louis’ balls. He pulls back just to push forward again, passing Louis’ balls and sticking out the other side of his thighs under his cock.

Louis groans and leans forward to free up a hand to fist his dick. He holds it still at the base as Nick thrusts again and runs his knuckles over Nick’s shaft while he pushes through.

“God, Louis,” Nick moans. Louis manages to figure out the best position that he can run his thumb along Nick’s frenulum while still pulling at his cock.

It’s a precarious rhythm of stroking up his dick when Nick pulls back and getting the pad of his thumb in the right position to run over the head of Nick’s cock when he pushes forward through his thighs again. Nick’s not entirely sure how Louis’ managing it, since he can’t see, but knows it feels fucking incredible.

“Close, Nick,” Louis breathes.

This time when Nick pushes through the tension of Louis’ thighs, he places his palm on the small of Louis’ back and presses his thumb against Louis’ hole. Louis gasps and falls forward, spasming as he comes against the mattress. Nick’s cock slips from between his legs and up between his arse cheeks, catching lightly against his hole. The sudden change and thought of fucking Louis properly pushes Nick closer to the edge.

“You’re so hot, Louis. So warm right here,” he says, rubbing his dick up between Louis’ arse cheeks again, on purpose this time.

“Still feels good,” Louis moans. “Fuck my thighs ‘till you come, c’mon.” He reaches behind and tries to grab at Nick’s own thighs to pull him back in.

“So good, Lou. Feels fucking incredible, won’t last long,” Nick says as he slips his dick back between Louis’ legs. He holds Louis’ thighs together since the boy has gone mostly boneless against the mattress.

Nick watches how his cock disappears through Louis’ trembling thighs and almost wishes he weren’t so close to climax, so he could keep doing this forever. As it is, Louis’ still trying to catch his breath, his legs are red and slick and tight and Nick can’t believe this is his view, almost wants to take a picture of this too.

He’s just thinking of that, of recording him and Louis together, when Louis tenses his thighs himself and squeezes around Nick. It’s enough and Nick groans, releasing into the condom as he collapses against Louis’ back, sandwiching him onto the bed.

“Christ you’re a good fuck,” Nick says into Louis’ ear, nibbling his earlobe.

“Nngghh,” is all Louis can mumble, face smushed into the sheets.

Nick rolls off Louis just slightly, wrapping an arm around his middle and holding him against his chest.

“Nick... condom, wet mattress, lubed thighs.” It takes Nick a second to realize Louis is complaining and not just taking an inventory of things around him, and he chuckles as he gets off the bed.

He ties the condom off and chucks it away in the bathroom where he warms up a flannel in the sink. He returns to the bed where Louis is still face down but has moved himself away from where he came all over the sheets.

“Hi love,” Nick whispers, kissing the back of Louis’ neck as he washes away what he can of the lube stuck to Louis’ reddened thighs.

When he’s done he tosses the dirty flannel toward the bathroom and squeezes himself in beside Louis, nuzzling his face into Louis’ warm neck. “Should probably get under the sheets.” Nick suggests, making no move to actually do that.

“Sleepy,” Louis mutters.

They don’t move for what feels like ages, long enough that Nick’s sure Louis has fallen asleep. Nick stares at the ceiling, content to just run his hands over whatever he can reach of Louis’ body: his stomach, his chest, gently over his tiny nipples, down to the V of his pelvis, over his hip and a bit of his arse, once over his soft dick. Louis whimpers and rolls over in Nick’s embrace, pressing his nose into Nick’s shoulder and sniffling against him. Nick rubs his hand gently down Louis’ back as an attempt to lull the boy back into sleep.

Nick’s exhaustion from dancing in the club and the exertion of spending time with Louis’ thrumming energy finally gets the best of him and the last thing he remembers before falling asleep is Louis lacing their feet together.

 

**_Ibiza Rocks Hotel_ , 11:23am**

Chickens, Nick thinks when he blinks awake. He was having a dream about chickens. Lots of chicken thighs, and sand. He shakes his head, rubs his eyes, and rolls over to groan into his pillow. For a minute or two he tries to place together who and where he is, still not entirely sure what planet he resides on.

He rolls over again, onto his back, and opens his eyes. They protest the sunlight streaming through the balcony’s curtains. Ibiza, that’s right. He’s on holiday. There’s a dull ache at the back of Nick’s neck, remnants of headache he hopes will go away with some breakfast, but otherwise he feels okay.

It’s not until he’s pulled himself from his bed, gone for surprisingly satisfying wee, and walks back into the main room that he realizes anything is missing. All it takes is a glance at the rumpled bedsheets for memories of the nights activities to come rushing back to him. He remembers the feel of Louis’ bare and sweaty skin trapped beneath his hands in the flashing lights of the club, remembers squealing into Louis’ mouth on the beach as a particularly cold wave of water washed over their legs, breaking the heated kiss they’d been sharing, and he remembers the curves of Louis’ hot, shaking body, bent so Nick could press himself against the boy and bring them both to orgasm. Nick also remembers how easily Louis had fit into his arms while they drifted off to sleep, how calm and relaxed he looked tucked against Nick’s chest.

Apart from the second mussed pillow and a dried stain on the sheets, there’s no other clues that Louis was ever there at all. No shoes, no forgotten pants, no note to say he just popped out for coffee and would be back any second.

Nick doesn’t rush down to the beach, hoping he’ll spot Louis again and ask what went wrong between falling asleep and waking up, but he doesn’t lay in bed and nurse his hangover like usual either. He hates waking up by himself, especially after someone stays the night. It’s out of character for him to not remember right away that someone was with him, and it makes the whole situation feel foreign in his bones, like he’s a different version of himself almost.

He manages to find a stool at the most populated breakfast bar on the beach and keeps an eye out for Louis while he eats. After two cups of coffee, a rather large omelette, and a jacket potato (he’s on _holiday_ , and the voice of judgement in his head that sounds an awful lot like Aimee can just shut right up, thanks) he still doesn’t see any sign of Louis and slowly makes his way back to his hotel room, stopping every time he sees a short brunette boy.

 

**_Savannah Beach Club_ , 10:17pm**

It frustrates him; he’s not usually the type to pine. Nick’s had enough of chasing boys, did that too much in uni with boys who would only pay him attention behind closed doors when no one else was there, and he told himself he wouldn’t wait around like an old-timey war wife. Nick likes people and attention and _doesn’t_  yearn.

But somehow he doesn’t even enjoy it when a tall, blonde, Swedish model buys him drink after drink and frots against him in the toilet that night. Nick doesn’t ask him for his name and doesn’t take him back to his room. He leaves for the hotel early and falls asleep alone on an unmade bed, feeling ridiculous and lonely.

 

**_Heathrow Airport_ , 9:08am**

Much to Nick’s dismay, Louis’ still on his brain when he lands back in London after a long flight with not one, but two screaming babies on board. It’s like the world was punishing him for being childish over the whole ordeal.

Aimee spots him right away as he steps through the arrivals gate. She waves at him enthusiastically but stops when he steps fully into her eyeline. Her eyes flick over his figure, taking in his slightly more tanned skin and unstyled hair, and the first thing that leaves her mouth is “you slag, tell me everything.” Nick grins at her and she continues, “but first I want breakfast, fucking starving. It’s so early, why did I agree to pick you up?”

“Because I’m the real and true love of your life, Aims.” He hugs her tightly, having missed her bright and wild face over the weekend.

“You’re the something of my life but I don’t think it’s that.” She takes one of his bags from him and strides toward one of the breakfast kiosks.

Nick stuffs his hands in the pockets of his coat, already missing the warmth of the Ibiza sun, and feels a bit of paper in his pocket.

Curious, he pulls it out and stops dead in his tracks when he sees a string of numbers written on it.

When he unfolds the paper he sees that there’s also a note above the number. _“You were okay, I guess."_  is written in small scrawl. There’s no name and no x’s, no indication at all of who left it, but Nick immediately knows it’s Louis’ number. A feeling of relief floods his chest and he looks up with a smile on his face to see Aimee frowning at him, confused.

“Hurry up, Grim, ya weirdo,” she calls.

Nick shakes his head with a laugh and sticks the paper back into his pocket. He feels at ease now, knowing Louis didn’t just get up and leave with no intention of ever speaking to him again.

He’ll call Louis later. Right now he needs to brag about his holiday to his best friend.

**Author's Note:**

> the title comes from _[dance wiv me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GibLntdLiJA)_ by dizzee rascal; whose gig louis apparently attended while he was in ibiza in 2011. i tried ridiculously hard to keep it as canon as possible, but i know some things are still off.
> 
> this all started during 30daysoftomlinshaw; it was an event i discovered and latched onto, then molded to fit my own headcanon. the fic strayed a little from the [original post](http://carswinky.tumblr.com/post/76006014900/favourite-tomlinshaw) but all the important bases are still there.
> 
> there are [some more photos in this tag](http://carswinky.tumblr.com/tagged/ibiza) on my blog.  
> and, if you care at all, [this](https://www.google.ca/maps/dir/Ibiza+Rocks+Bar,+Avinguda+Doctor+Fleming,+6,+07820+Ibiza,+Illes+Balears,+Spain/ibiza+rocks+hotel/@38.9801705,1.2992995,16z/data=!4m15!4m14!1m5!1m1!1s0x129949e091c21be1:0x4598d5f2e4a8b3d6!2m2!1d1.308091!2d38.976958!1m5!1m1!1s0x1299361d6cb79e27:0xc7334449b0ae23ae!2m2!1d1.299647!2d38.98299!3e2!5i2) is the walk they took from the bar to the hotel (the 17 minute one).
> 
> thank you for reading, i appreciate it :)


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